


Snowfall Before Christmas

by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)



Series: Vampires Before Christmas [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Hansol's Favourite Part Of Seungkwan, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Sex Toys, Soft Boo Seungkwan, Temperature Play, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-04-20 05:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21950842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine/pseuds/SunAndMoon
Summary: Newly graduated, Boo Seungkwan accepts Lee Jihoon's invitation to house-sit for them, and arranges for a gap year. As a teacher and an avid historian, he imagined his days filled with research and conservation efforts. All seemed set to pass quietly until he found himself duelling with a man down a dark corridor.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Vampires Before Christmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580371
Comments: 31
Kudos: 307





	Snowfall Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quingxie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quingxie/gifts).

> This is for a dear moot of mine, without whom I would not have finished this. It was planned before the questionnaire on Twitter, so will stand as the second of a trio of works.

Seungkwan hopped out of the taxi that had taken him from the station to Gunsloe Manor, so impatient to be getting on with things that he nearly vibrated with excitement. Getting a chance like this to study at a historical site before starting his master’s was like a dream come true – the only thing better would have been apprenticing at the Museum in Gyeongbokgung Palace, but he didn’t nearly have the correct family name or connections for that. This, a real live historic site in the Lake District of England, a confirmed listed historical building, was _everything_.

He jittered as the driver pulled out his suitcase and accepted the tip with a smile, and turned as the big doors opened, revealing a small figure standing there.

Lee Jihoon had never looked better. He was still his short, perfect self, but he literally glowed with health: slightly pink cheeks from the cold outside the hall, dressed in outstanding designer clothes tailored for him, and _happy_; Seungkwan could practically see the happiness pouring from the gentle, straightforward look in his eyes, not to mention the smile as he saw Seungkwan.

“_Hyung_!” he shrieked and launched himself up the stairs, straight into Jihoon’s arms. A flurry of hugging happened, and Seungkwan squeaked as Jihoon actually managed to pick him up; even though he was slender and lithe he was _strong_, as if he had decided to start working out. A little firmer too, not quite so stick-thin, which only made him look better.

“_Hyung_, you look so good, what kind of insane youth fairy do you have access to, you look younger than I do?” Seungkwan prattled a mile a minute. “Where’s your husband? I want to meet him too, gosh I haven’t seen the two of you since the last time you came to Korea and that was only a few days… oh, my mom packed some stuff for you, remind me to give it to you later…”

“Seungkwanie!” a loud voice roared out. He looked up from Jihoon’s shoulder to grin as Soonyoung raced down the stairs three at a time, practically levitating in the great big leaps he took. "Unhand my husband and go get your own!"

“_Hyung_!”

Jihoon laughed, shook his head and surrendered Seungkwan to his husband’s embrace.

If Lee Jihoon was strong, Seungkwan would swear up and down that Kwon Soonyoung had ten times his grip; he wasn’t the thinnest but Soonyoung picked him up and swung him around in great big loops like he weighed absolutely nothing. It took Seungkwan back to when he was a child, thrown into the air in his father’s hands…

Jihoon cleared his voice. “Give him a moment to breathe, _yeobo_,” he ordered. “I want to hear about his grades, and all the news. You must be hungry, Seungkwanie? It was such a long flight, so this afternoon is just for you to get used to the time-zone difference.”

Pouting, Soonyoung let Seungkwan down and went to hug Jihoon, folding lazily around his shoulders before his husband chivvied him out to get the suitcases.

Seungkwan, glad of the breather, took a turn to admire the vast entry into the manor, heart a-thud with excitement. As a history student, he had always loved the stately nature homes got after being lived in a few centuries; even with his major in teaching he had propped as many history courses into it as possible. Being in this home was _fabulous_, even if Jihoon had warned that portions had been modernized for easier living.

“Welcome to England,” Jihoon said softly next to him, reaching to squeeze his closest hand. “Thanks for helping us with this. Soonyoung’s got a friend coming up to help as well, but it’d be nice to have a historian in to help catalogue the library and some of the art in here, and help us decide what to send to the conservation company.”

Seungkwan turned to grin at him. “_Hyung_,” he said happily. “This is the best Christmas present ever. You’re going to have to winkle me out of here afterwards, you know?”

Jihoon’s smile lurked into being, soft and relaxed and sweet. “I hope so,” he replied, tugging Seungkwan off into the depths of the manor. “Come on, this way, we got some lunch delivered.”

A few days later, with the married couple off on holidays, Seungkwan opened the little study that would be his and sat down to draw up plans, quickly sketching out a list of things to get around to. He wanted to go through all of the paintings and real art pieces first, since conservation was a fine art that took _time; _not for the first time he prodded at the thin line between his brows that came from seeing the haphazard records of the house.

Soonyoung-_hyung_ was a fine owner that didn’t skimp on repairs, but the last three years he had clearly been concentrating on his new husband and _not_ his house. There were outer walls that needed to be paced and checked, the conservation index to be updated and rechecked, every inch of the building inspected for damage, and conservation experts to retain. As it stood, Soonyoung-_hyung_’s friend that was to have shared the house-sitting duties was already late and the weather had taken a turn for the dismal, wrapping the grounds in rain and misty fogs for the second day in a row.

There were certain areas of the home off-limits to him, but not many: the master suite that acted as the couple’s living space and bedroom, the below-ground levels that had been turned into a series of vaults to protect the parts of the collection in storage, the distant gate-house that had been turned into the groundskeeper’s cottage. Seungkwan didn’t mind so much; the waning hours of the afternoon had been spent in the library going over the computer catalogue to see what was available, as well as field bills and help restock the kitchen from a gourmet service that delivered.

Seungkwan felt _posh_ eating with the normal silver and had goggled over the real gold cutlery some lord had bought in bygone years, fancifully made into a woodland animals set.

He worked until late like that, mind gone into bygone eras and fingers flashing over the keyboard as he inspected image after image, and only came up for air when his shoulders were sloping and aching with fatigue. Rubbing at his eyes, he simply grabbed a protein bar and made for his room in the dower wing of the manor.

Soaking in the tub felt like the ideal thing after a long day.

With thunder galloping across the district and his body clock still unused to the new cycle in England, Seungkwan slept badly, tossing and turning in the huge bed until the early morning hours, until he practically couldn’t any longer. He had long since lost the heated ease from the long bath earlier, and he grumbled his way out of bed, pulling on an old cardigan over his pyjamas as he shuffled downstairs. Wandering through the night-dark passages felt like a dream, with only the occasional light from a flash of lightning to guide him down the Long Gallery down to the ground floor.

He yawned, padding through the entry-way towards the kitchens, already fantasizing about a cup of tea, and it wasn’t until he was almost on top of the man that he spotted him.

A flash of light provided very little time to see more than a sculpted face in a beanie; the man gave the impression of greater height and a strong build, and Seungkwan _panicked._ Of all the scenarios he had imagined in the castle, an intruder had never been one – Soonyoung-_hyung_ had a security company that could put the Royal Guard to shame.

Panic turned to fear, then sublimated straight into more panic. He reached out as he got the impression that the man was turning to him, and he grabbed for the first thing he could find, uncaring that he was probably manhandling a priceless antique. Another flash of light revealed surprised eyes as the man turned at his short, choked-off scream, as well as what looked like a thin-bladed Mameluke sword in Seungkwan’s shaking hand.

“Shit!”

Seungkwan paid no attention to the fact that the intruder had a mellifluous, deep voice; instead, slashing the sword in front of him to make it whistle, he just tried not to get shot. Another slash – the weapon had the most chilling hiss to it as it raked through the air – then a clang as the man jumped back nimbly like a cat, grabbing something off the wall to parry with it.

They danced up and down the corridor, Seungkwan with inexperienced frightened swings, and the man with a remarkable conservation of motion; Seungkwan could still see precious little, practically night-blind, with only the occasional too-bright flash to help. “Get out!” he shrieked shrilly. “Get out, get out, get out! This is private property so don’t you dare steal anything! Get out!”

“Watch it!” the man yelled back at him, cursing up a storm. “Jesus, watch it, do you even know what you’re doing with that thing? Stop swinging it around like an iron bar!”

“I’m not about to take advice from a burglar!” Seungkwan yelled back, leaping forward the way he had once seen a sunbae do in _kendo_ practice. He over-balanced, nearly lost his momentum and banged his hip hard against a small table that seemed intent on tripping him up; scooting past it cost him several seconds, but he leapt forward again, teeth bared in a rictus of emotion. “You shut up and just leave!”

“I’m not a burglar!” the man roared back, pushing forward with greater strength. One parry, then another, and his hand lashed out to lock around Seungkwan’s wrist to immobilize his sword-hand. “Stop! Just stop, okay? My name is Chwe Hansol, Kwon Soonyoung asked me to come and house-sit!”

Seungkwan stumbled, hissing at the painfully tight grasp on his wrist, and hauled back to kick at the man’s ankle to trip him. Seconds later, feeling his unprotected toes strike into the side of what felt like a _very_ solid boot of some sort, he howled with pain as the impact shot up his ankle. He folded into himself with the sudden pain, sword tumbling to one side to clatter onto the ground, missing the panicked indrawn breath of the man above him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” the man – Chwe Hansol? – cursed and his grip gentled immediately, twisting from holding him at bay to supporting him. His clothes were rain-wet against Seungkwan’s side as he scraped him closer by the waist; seconds later as he accidentally added insult to injury and stepped on Seungkwan’s bare foot he cursed again and swung Seungkwan up in his arms as Seungkwan cried out in renewed pain.

Seungkwan’s mind swam with the feeling of it; his foot felt as if someone had crunched over it in a car tyre, and the sudden gentle hold confused him. Whimpering, he tried not to cling at the man’s shoulders, thudding fists against his chest instead, fighting as best he could for his freedom. It only earned him another hissed curse before he got swung up over one broad shoulder as if he weighed nothing; the impact of it into his diaphragm was enough to steal his breath and his fighting spirit.

The man carried him quickly down the long corridor, securing him with one large hand high up on his thigh, and only let him down once they entered what looked like a little sitting room. Light glowed suddenly, switched on by the man, and he deposited Seungkwan on a brocaded couch before sinking down on his haunches in front of him. “I’m not a burglar,” he said in smooth, slightly-accented Korean. “My name is Chwe Hansol, and Soonyoung-_hyung_ asked me to help out here whilst they’re away.”

Seungkwan reached up to wipe at tearing eyes, lower lip quivering with the pain radiating from his foot. Sulking, he looked up and promptly forgot to breathe: the man in the pool of golden light was beautiful from the golden-brown riot of hair around aristocratically chiselled features, to a strong torso and strongly muscled legs. He was _also_ dressed only in a ratty tie-dye sweater and rain-wet blazer over it, with ripped jeans to make up the look. Not _quite_ state-of-the-art burglar gear that all the movies had…

Biting his lip, he winched as Chwe Hansol reached down to his poor foot, cupping the abused flesh between large hands to warm it. It still hurt when he gently felt it to ascertain the damage.

“I’m sorry,” Hansol said softly. “Hiking boots are murder on bare skin, and I had to move fast to catch my balance.”

Sniffing, Seungkwan gulped wordlessly and nodded, suddenly shy from the mistaken identity snafu and the very gentle way Hansol was massaging the pain from his foot.

“You’re Boo Seungkwan, right? Jihoon-_hyung_’s friend?” As Hansol spoke he tugged Seungkwan’s leg lightly towards the light for ease of inspection. “I’m so sorry, you’re going to be black and blue in the morning. It’s ironic, I think when Soonyoung-_hyung_ met Jihoon-_hyung_ he had a badly injured ankle as well. I… ah, is it very sore over here?”

Seungkwan winced as Hansol pressed in on his ankle, biting his lip. “Yes,” he got out in a meek voice. “Um, yes, I’m Boo Seungkwan. I’m… sorry? I expected you much earlier. I came down from tea and saw you and thought you were an intruder and I got scared.”

Chwe Hansol’s smile was _beautiful. _“It’s okay,” he murmured, gently letting the foot rest on the ground. “I hurt you far more, so I’m the one that should say I’m sorry. Let’s go get you that tea, okay? I’ll go around again and make sure everything’s locked up.”

Feeling lightheaded, Seungkwan nodded mutely and tried to stand, only to hiss with pain and fold up as his ankle buckled. Seconds later, caught in a flurry of large warm hands, he found himself in Hansol’s arms again, held securely against his chest.

“Careful,” Hansol said gently. “Your ankle isn’t sprained, but I bashed it rather hard, it’ll be sore for a day or so. Just don’t hit me again, okay?”

Cheeks colouring, Seungkwan shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, curling in a little as the heat from Hansol’s arms started to soak into his body.

“Rest your head against my shoulder, okay? Let’s go get you that tea, and I’ll get you something for the pain.”

Complying – between the pain and his fatigue it felt natural – Seungkwan rested his head on Hansol’s shoulder, hands curling into the tie-dye pattern of his sweater, and closed his eyes as he got carried down to the small modern kitchen as if he weighed nothing. One arm held him very securely under the backside as Hansol switched a light on, and he blinked woozily at the sculpted jaw close to him as he got carried over to the bit of cupboard space all the smaller electronic appliances occupied.

Hansol put him down gently, allowing his legs to hang off the end as he tugged Seungkwan's old cardigan in to keep him warm.

It felt like a dream to watch him make tea. Seungkwan huddled in his cardigan, mutely accepting a couple of pills with a glass of milk as he watched Hansol wander around the kitchen as if he knew it. He cleared his throat, tried to pull himself a bit straighter, and lifted his chin a bit. “Do you often visit?” he asked curiously, then held out one hand. “Boo Seungkwan, as you guessed. Teacher, from Jeju Island, I recently graduated from Busan National.”

Hansol smiled at him over his shoulder. “Graduated very well, I heard,” he said. “And an aspirant historian? And yes, I visit a lot, especially when Soonyoung-_hyung_ is on business and Jihoon-_hyung_ can’t go with for whatever reason – Soonyoung-_hyung_ is kind of protective.” He turned to shake Seungkwan’s hand, larger fingers wrapping delicately around his. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Chwe Hansol. I’ve seen Jeju once… it’s beautiful.”

The topic tickled at Seungkwan’s sense of humour. “Gosh,” he said happily. “From what I hear Soonyoung-_hyung_ is the _worst, _Jihoon-_hyung_ says he’s really over-protective. Are you like a security guard or something then? And yeah? Was it for a tour or something?”

Hansol’s smile dimmed a little. “More ‘or something’ than a guard, I guess? Just an old friend of the family.” He finished making the tea and carried it over to Seungkwan. “Yeah, it was a long time ago, but I still remembered what it looked like there at sunrise.”

Seungkwan accepted the mug of tea and took a sip, eyebrows arching. It wasn’t too sweet, something he abhorred, and mild, some kind of chamomile blend that he wouldn’t have thought someone like Chwe Hansol would pick. “This is delicious,” he said, surprise clear in his voice.

“Do you want a sandwich as well?” Hansol asked. “I make a mean midnight sandwich.”

Considering – he _was_ a little hungry – Seungkwan nodded and sipped at his tea. He ate every crumb of the sandwich that followed as well, a thick thing that might as well have been in a ploughman’s lunch, and received a delighted, dimpled smile from Hansol, who looked to derive real pleasure from him eating. The intimacy of the moment flushed along the top of his cheekbones, and he sipped at the last of his tea as fatigue settled heavily into his bones. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That was lovely. Could you, um, could you help me down from here? I’m afraid I’m going to land awkwardly.”

Hansol stood to take the dirty things, rinsing them quickly before he crossed to stand in front of Seungkwan. “Put your arms around my neck,” he ordered. “Let’s see.”

Seungkwan bit his lower lip and gingerly reached his arms around Hansol’s neck, locking them there as Hansol’s hands settled on his waist, biting into the slim width of it. As close as they were, his legs had to part a little to slide down, and it felt awkward landing on his foot, awkward enough that he gulped at the pain shooting through his toes. Before he could do so again, Hansol had picked him up again, one strong forearm braced underneath his butt and one across the small of his back.

“I really did a job on your toes, I’m sorry,” Hansol murmured, close enough that Seungkwan felt breath whisper across his ear.

With only the thin cloth of his pyjamas between him and Hansol’s warmth it felt odd but delicious, and his cheeks stung with red as Hansol encouraged his legs to part around his waist and sit over his hips. It made Seungkwan feel just a bit like a baby. “It’s okay,” he muttered thickly as he rested his forehead on Hansol’s shoulder. “They’ll be better tomorrow, right?”

Hansol carried him out the kitchen and all the way to the stairs, going up them in slow, rhythmic steps. “If they’re not I’ll carry you around in any case. You hold my fate in your hands in any case, if Jihoon-_hyung_ heard I had injured his precious dongsaeng, he’d thump me, and Soonyoung-_hyung_ would yell.”

Seungkwan had to muffle a chuckle at that; it relaxed him enough that he drooped further into Hansol’s arms and tried not to feel like a Victorian heroine from a ghastly historical romance. “You’d… better be nice to me,” he yawned, unashamed as he tucked his face into the strong column of Hansol’s neck. He smelled warm and slightly spicy-musky from whatever cologne he had on. “Could you… um, your watch is pressing into me.”

“Hm? Oh…” The request caused Hansol to shift his arm, one large hand replacing the arm underneath Seungkwan’s backside without any seeming difficulty as he took the last few stairs. “There. Better?”

Seungkwan swallowed at the feeling of heat radiating through his pyjamas, uneasily aware that despite Hansol’s hand size, his butt was bigger still. It had always been the part of him he hated the most and he had tried desperately to exercise it off. Instead, it had only made the round, full curves perkier – a female friend at once told him she’d kill to have it, when he bemoaned his trousers’ fit over it. “I must be heavy,” he apologized as they wandered down the long gallery. “Sorry.”

Hansol’s laugh sounded almost sweet against the side of his head. “Stop apologizing,” he said in his deep voice. “You’re not heavy at all. The blue bedroom, right?”

Seungkwan nodded and opened the door for him, suddenly sleepy as the pills finally kicked in. Mumbling, he shifted in the hold, sighing sweetly as he got carried into his bedroom.

At the edge of the bed, Hansol tried to put him down gently; the shift of the hand on his butt, not to mention the fingers biting in gently into the lush flesh, sent a little flare of heat through Seungkwan and surprised a little mumble of pleasure from him. Above him Hansol stilled for a moment before his hold deepened again for the last couple of inches, firm and strong as they curled in to hold him.

“Hansol…” Seungkwan whispered, eyelids fluttering and legs giving a little, needy tremble. For a moment he almost asked for more before his backside hit the cool linens and he was covered up securely, tucked into bed. He dreamt a ghostly kiss on his brow, and knew no more as he fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning dawned late and lazy; Seungkwan woke up with thin little ribbons of light penetrating the curtains drawn around his bed. He stared muzzily at them – he had never drawn the curtains himself – and shoved himself out of the bed slowly, testing his ankle gingerly. There wasn’t any pain remaining, but his toes looked like a purple bruised rainbow with only a dull ache as he pressed down on the puffy flesh. Ignoring it, he wandered to the bathroom to get ready for the day, and hissed as he pulled his pyjama pants down. There was a thigh-long bruise down his right leg that he hadn’t even felt last night, likely from his collision with the corridor’s table. It looked _spectacular_ in a sense, but not something he wanted to showcase to the world.

Half an hour later, dressed up in slim-fit jeans and a slouchy sweater-vest over a long-sleeved shirt, he made his way out, almost colliding with Hansol as he did so.

“Oh!” he said, jerking back a little, eye opening wide. “You startled me again!”

Hansol, turning the mug of coffee in his hand away from accident, gave him a grin. “Morning. I was just coming to see how you were feeling after last night. You drink coffee, right?”

Seungkwan gazed at the coffee in the big puppy mug, heart softening. “You made me coffee?” he said softly, touched. “Um, thank you!” Watching as Hansol turned it so that the ear faced him, he took it, took a self-conscious sip and sighed softly; he wasn’t sure whether it was a magical gift, but it tasted absolutely perfect. “This is lovely, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“Mostly I came up to see if I should carry you down again,” Hansol explained. “The coffee’s just a perk because I was making some for myself before I left.” He hunkered down on his haunches, reaching a finger out to poke gently at Seungkwan’s shoe. “There’s breakfast ready too. I’m not really a cook, but I made some rice and grilled fish and so on. Did you want to go riding out with me today?”

Seungkwan blinked. “Breakfast too?” he asked, feeling overwhelmed. “I… um, no? I can’t ride, sorry, I never learnt how. Unless you meant in a car? Even then you drive the other way around than I do, I think. I really need to go and see what damage we did last night, and there’s a plan…”

Hansol grinned wide and fey as he straightened. “Alright. Let me know if I’m going to be facing a duel when I come back though, it’s been a long time since my last lessons and I wouldn’t want to face such a master swordsman.” He nodded, standing aside so that the two of them could wander down together. “I meant on a horse, yes. I’d be happy to teach you? We’ll have to get you different clothes though – Soonyoung-_hyung_ might be the right height, but he’s a little… um…”

“Less fat?” Seungkwan suggested unhappily as they ambled down the staircase.

Blinking, Hansol shook his head, looking confused. “No?” he said. “I wasn’t going to say that at all. He just has bigger thighs than yours, and you don’t want to be in riding gear that is too loose, you’d be one big friction burn from knees to hips.” He paused. “Sorry, I don’t understand. You think you’re _fat_?”

Seungkwan tried not to blush; the patent disbelief in Hansol’s voice did his heart a little good even as the coffee gave him a shot of energy. “A little? Jihoon-_hyung_ is so delicate.”

Hansol rolled his eyes and made for the bottom of the staircase in three long-legged steps. “Jihoon-_hyung_ sometimes looks like a child until you see the muscles on him,” he said flatly. “Though I’d like to live so please don’t tell him that. You’re perfect. I’ll be back around noon, and I have strict instructions for you not to overwork yourself, so we can go in to town for lunch and the records office there. See you later!”

Blinking, Seungkwan watched as Chwe Hansol bounded away like a big, energetic puppy; he felt almost as managed as his sisters did, and the thought warmed his heart again.

_He’s dangerous, _his heart suggested. _Chwe Hansol is dangerous._

Shaking his head, he went to get on with things.

* * *

Groaning and full, Seungkwan walked slowly out of the little eatery Hansol had insisted they go to. The food had been strange but rich, giving him a lining against the cold, which had been way colder than anticipated. Drifts of snow lay shoveled neatly onto the sidewalks and his hands were stuck deeply into his pockets, one mitted hand curling around the USB with the council records the very nice lady at the alderman’s office had given him. He felt ready for a protracted nap, and it wasn’t until a hand touched his shoulders that he became aware he was being steered into another direction.

Hansol hadn’t eaten much at lunch, nibbling mostly, but he had insisted on Seungkwan getting a full meal. Now, with a couple of touches, he directed him up the high street of the picturesque town. “I spoke to Jihoon-_hyung_ earlier,” he said happily. “Soonyoung-_hyung_ wanted to send you to his tailor in London for a fitting, but Jihoon-_hyung_ said you might prefer just getting riding gear here in town? And a decent coat, he said that you’re not really used to the snow here? And that I was to take you past the chocolatier as well and that under no circumstances you were to be allowed to pay for anything.”

“What?” Seungkwan mumbled, lips barely above the collar of his jacket. “I’ll be okay, it’s not that cold, seriously; I’ll be okay for inside the house. And I don’t need riding gear, I have work to do…”

From the aimless way he ambled, looking here and there, Seungkwan was sure Hansol’s mind had checked out earlier in his mumble; it was the way he steered Seungkwan into a shop a few doors down that confirmed it. “Here!” he said, nodding to a woman with a long face behind the counter. “Elise, how’re you, how’s the family? I need some riding clothes for my friend here.”

Seungkwan blinked, too shocked at the sudden spate of fluid English to understand it. In very short order he was in a large dressing room sans jacket and sweater-vest, with a graceful female hand passing a couple of pairs of cream-coloured pants to him. Sighing and shaking his head, he shucked his clothes off and stepped into the first pair of them, tugging them up smoothly around his hips.

It hung loose on him, as did the second pair; the third pair fitted a little better. There was some kind of elasticized section in the lower leg so it clung to him there, but the top settled neatly on his body without being too tight. Too shy to ask for the woman, he stuck his head past the curtain. “Um, Hansol-ssi? Can you come and take a look? I think these fit really well mostly?”

He stepped back as Hansol made his way into the fitting room, unsure what to do.

Hansol looked at him, motioned for him to lift his shirt a little, and hunkered down again, gathering a pinch of fabric on Seungkwan’s thigh. “Way too loose,” he said, and promptly stuck his head out of the curtain to ask for a smaller pair.

Seungkwan boggled. Clearly his idea of too big differed vastly. “Are you sure?” he asked disbelievingly. “They’re already a little tight.”

“Riding breeches should be like leggings,” Hansol said, taking the smaller pair the woman passed him. “Take those off and try these on?” He waggled the pair at Seungkwan.

Biting his lower lip, Seungkwan turned a little away and scooted the first pair down, glad he had put on a set of good underwear. He was halfway to hanging the set up when Hansol hissed next to him and reached out to steady him by the knee. “What?” he asked, confused, and looked down at the brown-blonde locks. “I… oh. That’s nothing, don’t worry.”

Hansol reached out but didn’t quite touch his skin. Still, it was close enough that Seungkwan could feel the heat from this hand on his skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hansol asked softly, fingertips ghosting up the side of his leg to where the bruise splayed up over his hip, measuring the red-purple stretch of it with his hand. “Is this from last night?” He paused. “Is it ok if I touch it? The skin feels too warm.”

Swallowing, Seungkwan nodded dumbly, wondering why his heart fluttered at the upset tone to Hansol’s voice.

Hansol’s hand moved to settle on his thigh, sweeping up once with the back of his fingers, and his brow knit unhappily. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice distant. “I forget sometimes that people… I mean, if I knew last night, I would have done something. Is there a lot of pain? It looks so bad, Seungkwan-ssi.” His hand moved again, settling high on the back of Seungkwan’s thigh as his other thumb prodded gently down his calf, moving to tug off his sock on that foot. “The _hyungdeul_ are going to kill me, look at this.”

Seungkwan watched, spellbound. Hansol’s movement were very gentle but his expression seemed so sad and guilty, especially when he guided Seungkwan into the chair to sit so that he could lift his foot and examine it. “It wasn’t your fault,” he tried. “I was just clumsy.”

His heart tried to stop as Hansol looked up at him. Some trick of the lighting turned his eyes a gorgeous honey colour, more amber than brown.

“I’m still sorry,” Hansol said softly. “Come on, I’ll help you put these on.”

The air in the changing room felt charged as he helped Seungkwan step into the breaches, helping him by tugging the tight breeches up past his knees and thighs. They went on very tightly, clinging to him like a second skin, but when Hansol tugged them the last little bit Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he looked in the mirror. They moved and flexed as he turned and twisted, vastly more comfortable than the other pair, and he blushed as he saw what they did for his butt, emphasizing the full curves and perky flare of it.

“Wow,” Hansol said behind him, sounding a little strangled. “They look just right on you.”

Seungkwan peeked over his shoulder at the taller man, biting his lip as he caught his gaze in the mirror. “You think so?” he muttered, twisting again just to make sure. “They’re a little tight across the back.”

Hansol paused, clearly weighing words in his mind.

“What?” Seungkwan prodded, slowly frowning. “They have bigger pairs here, right? I can try some of those on again? You can say it, you know.”

“No,” Hansol said softly. “I was just thinking of how to tell you that you have the best ass and legs I’ve ever seen without sounding creepy about it. They fit perfectly.” He smiled ruefully. “Sorry. You should take them. Just… take them off before I sound even more like a pervert, ok?” Turning, he hastily made his way outside the dressing room.

Seungkwan stared after him, mystified and chuffed and curious. He wasn’t a confident gay by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something about Chwe Hansol praising his backside that had little flickers of interest grow low in his belly; the frankly admiring look in the man’s eyes made him wonder if they were compatible at all. He hadn’t missed how attractive Hansol was, it was hard to do when he looked like a literal statue, and maybe…

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to dressing again, and neatly folded the pants over his arm, ready for the outside world again.

That afternoon, possessed of two new sets of riding gear, some thermal leggings that the lady had whipped out and the fluffiest coat of his life, Seungkwan watched Hansol’s profile as he drove them back and dimpled, grinning.

Perhaps… perhaps the holiday would be even better than he had thought.

* * *

The afternoon went past in database management and appointment schedules until he felt a little cross-eyed again. Instead, moseying to the study that Jihoon had described as his best afternoon napping spot, he curled up in the large leather settee in front of the fire there, perfectly content with his book on household management at Gunsloe Manor. The door creaking open roused him from his half-napping consideration of servants’ wages back in the nineteenth century, and he looked up to see Hansol enter the room with a steaming mug and a large bag in his hand.

“Shove up,” Hansol murmured. “What’re you reading?”

Seungkwan put the book down and took the large mug, eyebrows arching at the smell of rich, decadent hot chocolate. “Household management,” he murmured into his mug, drawing his legs up a little. Seconds later, as Hansol pulled his legs up to stretch over his lap, he managed a little smile. “Thank you,” he muttered softly. “It smells delicious. I’m flattered, but you don’t need to fetch and carry for me. I’m used to doing things for myself.”

Hansol shrugged. “I like doing it,” he said, hands resting gingerly on Seungkwan’s calves. “There’s not much for me to do around here, and you’re as quiet as a mouse in any case.” He paused. “I wanted to apologise for being creepy in the shop earlier. I was raised with better manners. I don’t even… I mean, it must have been weird for you, some guy complimenting your ass like that.”

Seungkwan lowered the mug of hot chocolate to rest against his stomach. “I didn’t mind so much,” he admitted. “It wasn’t weird. I mean, um, Soonyoung-_hyung_ said something like that before as well.”

“Soonyoung-_hyung_ should compliment his own husband’s ass and stay away from commenting on other men,” Hansol muttered darkly. “But I got you something to apologise. Close your eyes.”

More amused than shy, Seungkwan put the mug aside and closed his eyes. “You didn’t have to get me something, Hansol-ssi, I… oh.” Something soft pushed against his lips after a crinkle of carton, something that smelled of orange and chocolate. He opened his mouth further, groaned at the taste of it on his tongue, and felt the fleetest of touches against his lips as Hansol thumbed away a little smear of chocolate.

His toes curled, the chocolate was that delicious: dark chocolate wrapped around bittersweet orange, with a quick burst of what tasted like liquor that filled his mouth and turned his senses.

“That’s it,” Hansol said softly, approvingly.

Seconds later he fed him another one, then another, until Seungkwan felt like wriggling with glee.

“Mhm, Hansol-ssi,” he murmured, licking at his lips. “I like your apologies.” He opened his eyes lazily, eyelids half-mast, and looked at him from beneath his eyelashes. “Feel free to do so again any time.”

Hansol had a little smile on his mouth. “I’m the best at apologies,” he teased. “I still need to apologise to your foot as well.”

Seungkwan let his head hang back against the arm of the settee, laughter gurgling from him. “Are you going to feed my foot chocolate?” he laughed. “What a waste of the good stuff.”

Hansol set aside the carton from the chocolatier and picked his foot up, slowly pulling the sock off before he encouraged the edge of the leggings higher up to Seungkwan’s knee. “Not quite, just some liniment. It’s not going to smell so good, but it’ll work.” Seconds later, pouring something from an unmarked bottle into the palms of his hands, he set to rubbing it gently into the bruised toes.

Seungkwan swallowed the gasp that wanted to surface. Whatever the ointment, it smelled strongly of mint and some kind of medicinal rub; his toes curled at the gentle motions and heat flickered into being in the pit of his stomach again. He watched through drooping eyelids as Hansol massaged the ointment in, careful over the bruises but firm around the heel and underneath the instep. His hands were very strong, strong enough that Seungkwan fantasized a little about feeling them somewhere else. “Wow,” he managed to get out, voice just a little thick. “You’re right, you’re excellent at apologies.”

“Told you,” Hansol said, flicking a gaze sideways at him. “This’ll encourage blood flow.”

It _was_, Seungkwan pondered with heating cheeks. It was definitely making his blood flow south to settle hot and heavy in his groin; he nearly squirmed with the feeling but bit down on his lip instead, tasting remnants of the boozy chocolates on them.

Hansol’s hands firmly rubbed up around his calf and into the sensitive hollow behind his knee before trickling fingertips down his shin before pulling his leg up and little and turning so that it could rest on his shoulder. “Keep it there,” he commanded, and reached for Seungkwan’s other foot.

Seungkwan bit his lip again as the wonderful massage started up again, hungry for the touch. It had been so long since anyone had indulged him like this; there had been way too much studying in his university years for anything like a dalliance, which only reminded him of the skin-hunger that slumbered deep in his belly. “Thank you,” he said softly, feeling shy. “That feels heavenly.” Arousal hitched higher and higher in his belly as he wondered whether Hansol knew what he was doing to him, whether he was attracted as well…

“…Seungkwan-ssi?” Hansol’s voice came from a great distance. “Did you hear me?”

Seungkwan blinked back from the happy, fevered little dream he had been in. “Ah… sorry, no? And just call me Seungkwan, Hansol-ssi, we look to be mostly the same age. What was it you said?”

Hansol’s smile turned skewed, warm eyes amused. “I asked if you wanted me to rub this into your thigh as well. It really is good for bruising.”

Seungkwan swallowed, wondering whether he dared…

_Oh hell, _a part of his mind said. _A super-hot guy is willing to give you a massage. Just go with it, you idiot._

Biting his lip again, he nodded shyly.

Hansol turned him slightly onto his uninjured side, resting legs over his lap again, before he reached beneath the floppy sweater to hike the thermal leggings down. His fingers weren’t rough but insistent instead, waiting until he had raised his hips before he pulled the leggings down to his knees. When he looked at the long bruise he winced again, shaking his head. “Your skin is so delicate,” he mumbled softly, drizzling a thin line of the liniment up the red-purple stretch of it. “I’m so sorry, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan tried to tuck his sweater in to hide his growing arousal, but was forced to abandon that plan as Hansol hiked it up to rest in his waist. “You didn’t do anything,” he insisted, breath hitching in his throat as Hansol’s large hand settled on the outside of his thigh. His touch was delicate as he spread out the ointment, but firmer as he started to rub it in. Seungkwan’s mind floated, partly with pleasure, partly with the medicinal, minty scent of the liniment. It stung a little, and his leg _was _sore when Hansol pressed into it, but it felt so _good_ his defences were trembling weakly.

They collapsed as Hansol carefully nudged his boxer briefs up onto his hips to get at the bruise beneath them; his fingertips teased and pressed into the sensitive skin, occasionally straying closer to his backside before drawing away. Over and over again, until his senses danced and he closed his eyes, fingers hungrily curling into his bunched-up sweater as he softly moaned.

The fingers hitched at the moan, then started again, rubbing in little circles. Occasionally they fluttered a little over one cheek, or dipped along the line that separated thigh from groin, until Seungkwan wanted to wriggle and writhe and beg for more. His moans were soft things now, just a little needy; he could imagine the slight stinging of the liniment in other places, wanted to feel the fingers curve into him.

“Seungkwan,” came Hansol’s soft voice as his fingers stilled.

“Mmh?” he moaned, voice blurring with pleasure as he lay there wishing for just a little bit more pleasure.

“Open your mouth,” the command came.

Turning his head, Seungkwan parted his lips without any complaints. This time when he tasted the chocolate on them, he laved at Hansol’s fingertips with his tongue, seeking the salty-sweet taste as the others kept him firmly by the hip. When they finally slipped out, they were suckled wet, dragging a slick stripe over his bottom lip. He opened his eyes a little to watch Hansol, rejoicing in the flare of dark gold arousal in his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured softly.

Hansol’s nostrils flared but he didn’t push; instead he decorously pulled the leggings up over Seungkwan’s hips again and helped him sit up straight. “You’re dangerous,” he teased. “If I knew how dangerous, I’d’ve been on time the first night.”

Seungkwan’s limbs felt heavy and languorous from arousal and the heat of the fire. Tilting his head, he grinned with pink cheeks at the compliment before wriggling upright. “I’m not dangerous,” he murmured, mouth tucking into a furled pout.

Hansol stifled a soft snort and sat back to allow Seungkwan to rest comfortably. “You’re dangerous because you’re so soft,” he murmured as he stared into the fire. “I can’t decide whether I want to tuck you into my pocket for safety or kiss you until you’re breathless and blushing.”

Seungkwan laughed softly. “You’re treating me like a plushie,” he teased. “Do you like cute, cuddly things that much, Hansol?”

“I love cute soft things the most, but you’re way better than any plushie,” Hansol said. “And that was the cheesiest line I’ve ever said, so I’m just going to die now. The _hyungdeul_ could at least have warned me about you.”

Wanting to laugh out loud, Seungkwan stifled the impulse until all that was left was a grin. “I’m innocent,” he insisted.

“I know. That’s my _problem_.”

Blinking, just a little shy, Seungkwan pulled away to look Hansol in the eye. “A problem?”

Hansol’s smile was like warm sunlight. “It’s like that story of Red Riding Hood,” he said softly. “Only, instead of killing, I want to pounce for other reasons, and I don’t know if you want that. Even if your body is saying one thing, your mind should say it too.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan said softly. “I don’t mind?” He swallowed, feeling just a little too warm form the curling, twisting arousal in the pit of his belly. “Just a little pounce?”

“A little pounce, huh?” Hansol laughed.

“A tiny one,” Seungkwan insisted, holding up thumb and forefinger with a shy grin. “This small?”

Seconds later he eeped in shock as Hansol’s hands shifted him, spreading his thighs to help him sit properly facing him. The thick length between Hansol’s legs felt very large as hands held him there, and a couple of wriggles saw him seated firmly on it before Hansol’s grip stopped his movement. Slowly, very slowly, Hansol leant in, and Seungkwan eagerly tilted his head to match their lips together.

The kiss started very softly and innocently, mere exploring brushes of soft lips against his until Seungkwan leant his arms around Hansol’s shoulders, pressing in a little more.

Hansol kissed him until his lips were stung to pouty fullness, then slowly sucked one into his mouth to nibble and suckle at it, hungry over the full curve of it. At Seungkwan’s soft moan, he nipped at it once, then twice, before allowing it to pop free. “Gorgeous,” he said softly as his glance flicked over Seungkwan’s flushed face, lingering on his lips before flicking up to heavy-lidded eyes. “May I kiss you properly?”

Nodding dumbly, mind spinning with pleasure, Seungkwan leant in again.

This time the kiss turned slow and wet, Hansol’s tongue flicking at the nibbled lower lip before Seungkwan opened his mouth pliantly; his tongue slipped in smoothly to tickle over Seungkwan’s, trapping it for a moment before Hansol deepened the kiss. He never left off the assault, merely dominated Seungkwan’s mouth as if it was his right, swallowing all the needy little moans that escaped from the smaller.

Seungkwan couldn’t believe that such a slow, deep kiss could feel so thrilling; he felt small and perfect and weak when he had to fall back from air. He didn’t have a respite for long; instead, Hansol leant to kiss him again, this time holding the nape of his neck to tilt his head perfectly. Seungkwan felt needy and desperate the longer it went on, mouth utterly surrendering to Hansol’s. The other was sucking on his tongue, encouraging it to dance with his, and it tasted of a faint sweetness through the chocolate that had him groaning for more.

His head hung back as Hansol pulled away, neck tilting submissively to one side as he felt lips tickle down his neck. His body was giving off little prickles of energy, flashes of a superb awareness, as Hansol’s hands slowly moved from his neck down his spine to settle over the lush, full curves of his butt. He gasped as the strong fingers bit in a little there, thighs and belly clenching as he whimpered and hitched them backwards hungrily.

“Gods,” Hansol whispered against his throat, sucking little love-bites into the pale length. “You have no _idea_ the things I want to do to you.” He tightened his grip, massaging the full cheeks in firm, smooth strokes. “But it’s time for supper, and you worked hard today.”

Seungkwan was loathe to stop, but Hansol’s hands encouraged him off his lap and onto his feet after a moment spent cuddled close. His knees wobbled as his belly churned with need, but deep in his mind he knew it was for the best. Even though lust sparked high between them, they had only known each other for a couple of days. “Tease,” he pouted with kiss-swollen lips. “You’ll have to apologise for that too.”

“Mhm, how?”

“Carry me to bed again tonight?” Seungkwan asked plaintively.

Hansol’s smile was slow and sweet as he stood and pressed a kiss into Seungkwan’s forehead. “I promise,” he said.

* * *

Seungkwan’s days spun easily from one into the other over the next few days. Hansol seemed to derive pleasure from assisting in small ways: there was a cup of coffee in the morning, and most meals he spent on Hansol’s lap being fed morsels of food interspersed with sweet little kisses. He seemed to intuit when Seungkwan wanted to be left alone with his work and only popped in hours upon hours later, right when he needed a drink in the worst way. It was a kind of magic, really, how well he seemed to guess at Seungkwan’s desires.

Long mornings of hard diligent work turned into slow afternoons of exploring the house, and Seungkwan could honestly say he had never been happier in his life. Even though it was so soon, he knew he was falling in love with Chwe Hansol a bit more every day, encouraged out of his shy shell until he bloomed with happiness, secure in the knowledge that the other _did_ find him attractive, _did_ reciprocate his feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later, when they were in an attic filled with things the inhabitant of the house had stored there over three centuries, that he finally felt secure enough to broach the topic that had been plaguing him. “Hansol,” he said softly from the crate he had been seated on, legs swinging slightly. “Forgive me for prying, but… are you the same as Soonyoung-_hyung_? A… you know, like he is?” He watched Hansol’s frame still as he laid out their impromptu picnic, and hastened to reassure him. “I mean, not that I mind if you are or not, but it’s just that I wondered since you’re good friends.”

“A vampire? I am,” Hansol said after a long moment of watching him. “Sort of. I’m a part of his race, yet, but from a wilder branch of it, I guess you could say. I’m a mix, not a purebred like him.”

Seungkwan tilted his head curiously. “How do you mean?”

“My dad was cursed by a witch to spend his days as a wolf,” Hansol explained. “He was only human at night but my father slowly fell in love with him despite that. He was able to break the curse because of… what he was, but there was still a healthy amount of wolf in him when he had me. I have the fangs and so on, but I have other traits too. I’m not nearly as old as Soonyoung-_hyung_, but the wolf side protects me during daytime and allows me to cut down my blood intake to once a week.”

Seungkwan inhaled on a long, slow ‘ohh’, curious beyond belief. “When Jihoon-_hyung_ explained a few things to me I didn’t want to believe him at first,” he explained softly. “The whole bit about the fangs and eternal life. For a while I thought he was in love with a corpse…” He broke off as Hansol let out a loud laugh that echoed through the attic. “Stop it!” he pouted. “It’s not that funny!”

“It is!” Hansol insisted. “Soonyoung-_hyung_ would be so embarrassed and sulky if he knew.” He straightened and came to kiss the pout off Seungkwan’s mouth. “Is that why you’re so easy around me?”

Seungkwan dropped his gaze to focus on the loud, printed design on Hansol’s long-sleeved t-shirt. “I guess?” he said softly. “I trust both of them. They wouldn’t let me be around someone dangerous.” Swallowing, he glanced up again. “Can I see them?” he asked. “Your fangs. Is it true what the blood, um, the effect it has on human bodies?”

Hansol nodded and let his mouth sag open a little big.

Seungkwan watched as two long, thick incisors grew from his jaw, canines lengthening to needle sharpness. He nearly reached for one, fascinated, before he swallowed and sat back. “Wow,” he got out. “Is the rest of you like a werewolf?”

Hansol waited until his fangs retracted before he patted Seungkwan’s thighs, hands leaning on the crate beside them as he pondered. “I don’t change shape,” he finally said. “But I can see in the dark and smell really well, and my hearing is very sharp.” He leant in to nose at Seungkwan’s neck over the fading bruises he had placed there days ago. “I can smell you all the time,” he said softly, voice deep. “You smell like old books and honey tea and soft musky warmth,” he murmured into the skin. “It’s the best smell ever, I want to roll around in it. And sometimes…”

“Sometimes?” Seungkwan asked, body flaring with heat; the little licking kisses felt so good his toes curled.

“Sometimes I can smell how hot you get for me,” Hansol continued, fluttering kisses over his jaw. “I can hear the thunder of your heartbeat and how your breath rushes in your throat. Your scent changes when you get aroused, peachy-sweet, and it drives me crazy when I think of tasting your blood like that and feeding you mine until you go wild and needy.”

Seungkwan whimpered, arousal notching up so much that he felt trapped in a fever dream. “Gods,” he moaned out. “And you call me the dangerous one.”

Hansol smiled into the skin of Seungkwan’s neck. “You _are_,” he insisted. “You’re gentle and soft most times, but you can also be fierce – you didn’t hesitate to try to chase me out of the house. I like that duality.” He swallowed. “It’s very attractive, but you’re so intelligent too, and so curious. I’m not sure how you’ve not had a real boyfriend before this.”

Blinking, Seungkwan reared back. “How can you tell?” he demanded, a little wary. “I’ve not told you anything about my past, and Jihoon-_hyung_ wouldn’t tattle.”

“I can smell it,” Hansol admitted. One hand reached to rest fingertips on Seungkwan’s belly before migrating to rest on his hip. “You smell clean and sweet and ready, but not taken yet.”

Seungkwan’s cheeks scalded with embarrassment as he pushed Hansol away from him. “Stop smelling me!” he moaned, feeling even his ears heat. “There’s no need for you to be smelling that kind of thing!”

Hansol laughed and laughed, raking his form closer to hug him once, fiercely, to his chest. “You asked,” he reminded gently. “Come on. Let’s eat. You eat like a _bird_.”

Seungkwan, pouting, went with, content to be mollified back into a good mood by food.

* * *

It took two weeks for the house to be stripped of all the paintings, art pieces and weapons that Seungkwan had marked for cleaning, and he accepted the signed chitty from the British Conservationist’s society with a relieved exhale. It was near Christmas and they had finished just in the nick of time; over the rest of the year the pieces would be stabilized, cleaned and repaired as they needed. The group that had won the bid to restore the house would only be around late in January, leaving him with a whole month of time to himself.

He trundled around the outside of the house, checking that the gardeners had shut the garden down for winter, moving potted shrubs into the conservatory and covering those that could not move in plastic. The rose bushes Soonyoung had planted into a garden for Jihoon over a year ago were just at the stage where they were most vulnerable – that entire section looked like little plastic trees, complete with thick mulch and wraps around their stems to keep their feet warm. Everywhere he looked things were entering a dormant stage. He felt the same, ironically, as if he wanted to draw back into the lovely manor for the winter and not come out.

Distantly, almost like a howl, he heard a shout and looked up as Hansol waved at him from the depths of the forest behind the manor. He waved back, grinning, and jogged a little to join him. Hansol was running far faster towards him, so they met on the lawn, and Seungkwan shrieked with surprise and happiness as he got tackled and pushed back into the snowy loam. He didn’t hit hard, Hansol’s arms and hands protected him, but it still winded him a little as he felt the taller body press down on him with little puppy wriggles. “Ooof,” he got out, gloved hands patting at Hansol’s sides. “Did you get the back section checked out?”

“Mhm,” Hansol muttered, shaking snow out of his hair before he pressed his cold nose and face into the vulnerable stretch of Seungkwan’s throat. “Everything’s still standing as it should. I’ll take some of the leftover food out again tomorrow, there’s a few hungry packs back there, and pickings are lean this time of the year.”

Seungkwan gave a squealing little giggle as his throat chilled. His legs parted as much from the desire to feel Hansol between them as the desire to have them against a source of heat; his jeans were warm enough, but the remnants of snow beneath him already started to feel slushy. “Good boy,” he muttered, and felt Hansol snicker into his throat. He looked up as a delicate touch ghosted over his forehead and smiled at the darkening sky. “It’s snowing again,” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around Hansol’s solidly lean torso.

“Mhm,” Hansol got out again, sounding a little drunk. “Just a little longer.”

Time stopped for Seungkwan, right there in the middle of the snowed-in lawn. The little kisses and nuzzles Hansol pressed to his neck made him feel squirmy and soft and warm; he had no desire to move, really, not even when the flakes started to fall thick and fast.

Aeons later – he wasn’t quite sure how long – he roused as Hansol got off him and lifted him from the slushy ground. He laughed at the click of tongue as Hansol discovered how soaked he was from the anorak down; this time it was his turn to snuggle into Hansol’s neck. Moments passed as softly as the snow as he got carried inside, then upstairs. They went to his room and Hansol paused to kindle the fire again before he got carried into the bathroom.

“Bath,” Hansol ordered softly, putting him down on the thick carpet before going to turn on the tap. Seungkwan, shivering a little from the lack of his heat, watched as he drew a half-full bath of steaming water and poured oils into it: fragrant pikake jasmine, something a little heavier like ambergris, one that smelled of honey and sunlight.

Hansol turned to smile at him, easing the jacket off his body. Seungkwan stayed quiet, feeling as soft as Hansol insisted on calling him, as his clothes were very gently removed. Large palms took care over his shoulder and at his waist, along the side of his thighs until he stood there pink and blushing, utterly naked. The intimacy of it struck Seungkwan. It was the first time he had ever been this naked in front of someone not a family member; the way Hansol’s eyelids drooped a little over blazing amber eyes said he liked what he saw a lot.

“You’re perfection,” Hansol said slowly, hands skimming along Seungkwan’s flanks. “Gods, Kwan, you’re so perfect I don’t think I’m even allowed to touch you like this.”

“You’re allowed,” Seungkwan insisted softly. “To look and… and to touch, and do what you want.” He paused. “Join me?”

Hansol managed a lopsided smile as he picked him up and put him into the bath, one hand gentle over the almost-faded bruise on his flank before he started yanking his clothes off.

Seungkwan watched, mesmerized. He knew Hansol was built underneath his clothes, had felt it before when they fooled around, but seeing was everything, and his eyes widened as lean, ripped muscles were revealed.

His stomach was all muscle that curled and lengthened as he yanked his sweater off to reveal broad shoulders, taut arms and ironically delicate collarbones. His hips, revealed as he shucked off jeans and underwear at the same time, were much leaner than Seungkwan’s, thighs thick with muscle and calves very lean. His outdoor life was very visible in the golden tan he had, which made Seungkwan wonder if he ever ran around naked to appease the wolf inside him. Most prominent, even lax, was Hansol’s cock, thick and long in its limp state.

Swallowing, Seungkwan tried to look away, but couldn’t quite manage. He wasn’t dissatisfied with his own measurements, he was a bit larger than normal, but now Jihoon-_hyung_’s hints at Soonyoung’s, ah, _size_ made more sense. “Wow,” he got out, mouth suddenly flush with saliva that forced him to swallow again. “Look who’s a shower,” he mumbled as Hansol stepped forward to clamber in behind him.

Hansol laughed as he made himself at home, then pulled Seungkwan back into his arms. “I’m a grower,” he muttered, sounding the tiniest bit smug. “Comfy?”

Mind blown at the thought that he could get any bigger still, Seungkwan only nodded dumbly. Between the two of them the water level was high enough now that he lay up to his chin in the warm water. His limbs floated in the water, one toe pressed against the tap to steady one leg. “You were wrong,” he said quietly. “I’m not beautiful. You are. Like a Greek statue – the Greeks could honestly have taught anatomy off you.”

“But I wouldn’t have fit behind just one fig leaf,” Hansol teased as he slowly rubbed his hands up and down Seungkwan’s arms to rub the oil into them, fingers tangling momentarily. He laughed as Seungkwan snorted. “I know you’re rolling your eyes,” he grinned, bringing their tangled hands up to nudge Seungkwan’s jaw to the side to kiss him. “Better?” he whispered into his mouth. “I don’t want my baby to catch cold.”

Seungkwan smiled into the kiss, touched by the warmth and care in Hansol’s voice. “I won’t,” he promised solemnly. “And yes, I was rolling my eyes because you’re dissing my favourite sculptors.”

“Kwan?” Hansol murmured, pulling away to look at him. “Do you… I’m not that worried you’ll fall sick, but you’re delicate and I’m a little afraid I might hurt you. Do you want to taste a bit of my blood?”

“Mhm,” Seungkwan muttered. “Are you finally going to let me taste?”

Hansol pulled his hands away in answer, opening his mouth and nicking his index finger on one razor-sharp fang. A bit of blood welled up, scarcely more than a drop.

Seungkwan watched it, fascinated by the deep ruby hue to it. Gingerly – his mind was still iffy about the idea of tasting any blood, no matter that this was different – he opened his lips and stuck his tongue out, letting Hansol dab the drop there.

In the next moment it felt as if his mind exploded from the sheer richness on his tongue. Every taste receptor fired off messages about the salty-sweet, rich taste they were inundated with; Seungkwan leant forward to suck Hansol’s index finger in deeply, desperate for more of the wild taste. He held it there, nursing at the finger, until Hansol pulled back against his will. One moment he mewled with the need for more; in the next Hansol sank his tongue deeply into his mouth and kissed the stuffing out of him. There was more of that taste now, a generous plenty, and the kiss turned filthy and needy from it.

Seungkwan allowed Hansol to dominate his mouth until he had to jerk back for air, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling with the need to breathe. “Hansol,” he whispered, feeling little trembles as the water caressed at his skin. “Oh my god, do that again.”

Hansol kissed him again, then _again, _feeding him little bits of blood with each kiss until his body felt alive and incredibly sensitive. A mere skim of one hand down his back had him whimpering and curling from the sweet pleasure; when Hansol used that moment to lean in and gently nibble at one small nipple with his teeth he yelled at the sheer pleasure of it.

He didn’t care about water possibly sloshing over the rim. Instead, turned on and frantic, he turned on Hansol’s lap until he could straddle his hips, erections brushing together. “More,” he gasped against Hansol’s mouth. “Please, more?”

Hansol petted him gently to ease him off the precipice he dangled over, hands firm on his hips to still their rutting surges. “No,” he said. “Sorry, Kwan, that’s all that’s safe, and even that’ll be hard to handle. We don’t want to risk any more of a link than we already have.”

Seungkwan petted at Hansol’s strong chest, pouting with kiss-swollen lips. “What do you mean?” he mumbled. “Is it that dangerous?”

Hansol’s glance on him was very steady. “A little,” he said. “If you take too much, or for too long a period, you run the risk of your body starting to change. You’ll start feeling stronger and more energetic, and it _feels_ good during sex, but there are some drawbacks, okay? You don’t want to be like one of us, not until you’ve had a lot of time to think it through. It’s a very big step.”

Curious – it was more than Jihoon had told him – Seungkwan tilted his head. “What do you mean? Sensitivity to the sun and so on? An aversion to garlic?” he teased.

Hansol rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a vampire romance novel,” he muttered. “No, listen.” He frowned as Seungkwan wiggled to tease him, and took a greater grip of his ass, large hands curling around the lush globes to palm them and keep him still like that. “I’ll be able to see what you see to a measure, and our minds will link increasingly. It’s how Soonyoung-_hyung_ knows what Jihoon-_hyung_ wants, whether he’s happy or needs food, whether he’s sad and needs a hug. It’s…” He swallowed.

Seungkwan subsided, lured to stillness by the slow way his ass was being massaged, never quite delving into the space between them. “Yes?” he asked.

“It’s possible to become pregnant,” Hansol said bluntly. “Like Jihoon-_hyung_.”

Shocked to his core at the news, Seungkwan stilled. “What?” he got out; voice strangling. “He’s…” Wildly, he thought back to the little bits he had seen those first few days: the way Jihoon had absolutely glowed, radiant with health, the way Soonyoung had handled him even more like spun glass. The way he had felt just a little heavier than normal, which he had thought was pure muscle. “He’s pregnant?” he finally asked. “How is that even possible?”

Hansol sighed, hands gentling a little as he rested back to gently massage thumbs over the crest of Seungkwan’s hips. “The blood acts like a carrier,” he explained. “It changes human bodies to handle us better, and there have been some instances of males giving birth. My parents and Uncles Seungcheol and Jeonghan were shocked, it only took the _hyungdeul_ three years to become that compatible. Cousin Sophie should be able to explain more in detail, but it _is_ possible. Not immediately, don’t worry, but the more blood you take the quicker it happens.” He paused. “Do you… do you maybe want to stop rather?”

Mind blown, it was long moments before Seungkwan managed to muster up enough control to shake his head. “No,” he said softly. “No, but thank you for stopping me and explaining. I’m not ready for anything like _that_.”

Hansol smiled warmly up at him. “Not for the world would I want to offend you and possibly lose you by taking that choice away,” he muttered. “I like you, Boo Seungkwan. From your brilliant mind to your glorious ass to your surprisingly small feet.”

The slight fear in Seungkwan’s heart sublimated straight to fondness; Hansol looked innocent and forthright like this, explaining even when he seemed scared the truth might drive Seungkwan away. “I like you too,” he admitted gently, fingertips pressing against Hansol’s shoulders as he leant in to kiss him.

Hansol kissed back eagerly, reaching to wrap arms around his slim waist. “There is one large plus-point though,” he laughed, relieved. “You’re going to have the best dreams of your _life_ tonight.”

Later, tucked naked and warm into bed, Seungkwan thought to wonder what he meant, but was asleep so fast he fell asleep long before counting to ten. Curled into a small ball, there was a content little smile on his face as he faded.

* * *

There were hands on him, ghosting over him, arousing him with little curls of fire. His skin didn’t feel like his skin; instead it was some kind of sensory expanse linked directly to his cock. Each stroke, each whisper of skin against his made him stiffen. It was warm around him, almost swelteringly hot, and there was something large close. The owner of the ghostly hands, his frantic mind suggested; he revelled in their cool touch, went as they wanted him. On his back, on his side, on his front, ceaselessly stroking at him until he cried his pleasure into the pillow he clutched to himself. The hands’ owner was _cruel_, teasing him unbearably when he wanted firm touches. Even when they cupped his ass it took hundreds of little teasing touches before they solidified enough to properly touch them.

Large hands spread his ass apart, massaged and pawed at the generous flesh before letting his cheeks fall back together to jiggle. Over and over, until he was humping at the sheets, until he lifted his hips in supplication towards the hands’ owner, begging and pleading as much as he could. The fingers bit in again and pulled him open one last time; he shrieked when a wet tongue licked over his rim. In his dream he was slick there, _dripping_; the tongue ate him out with slow licks. Two thumbs moved to his hole to press inside and his rim fluttered open smoothly, allowing the person above him to tongue-fuck him into bliss. He screamed and gyrated, cries muffled by the pleasure, feeling his body chase after a mind-numbing orgasm. There were fingers in him now, fucking some kind of lubricant deep into himself, and just as they reached deep inside him, twisting and pressing, he threw his head to howl with pleasure.

Between one second and the next Seungkwan thrashed awake, yelling as he came the hardest he ever had in his life. There was such a mess between his thighs he felt hot and aroused and ashamed; when he reached down hesitantly his cock felt as if it twitched, pumping the last spurts of white out over his hand.

His cheeks stung with embarrassment but he was too curious; rolling over onto his side he gingerly reached behind him and sunk one coated finger between his cheeks. He had never played with himself there, just jerking off when the pressure of everyday life grew too much. Now, feeling the rim clench and flutter open beneath the fingertip, he allowed it to slip inside and moaned out long and low. He felt warm and soft inside, super-sensitive, cum easing the biting stretch. For a moment he wished someone had licked him back there, it was difficult to work his finger in, and he couldn’t find that spot the dream man had pressed.

Frustrated, gut still twisted up, Seungkwan removed his finger and made his way to the bathroom. The hot shower relaxed him a little, enough for the jitters in his limbs to calm down. Brushing his teeth and taking care of things there, he went to make his bed with clean linens and finally got dressed. Everything felt too heavy on him; his skin was ludicrously sensitive, and he finally settled on a pair of soft workout leggings and a cashmere sweater he had once gotten for his birthday. The soft red made his skin glow, but at least half of that was from a blush as he made his way outside.

He tracked Hansol down in the kitchen and just one look at his knowing, honey-hued eyes made Seungkwan squeak with mortification. He turned on his heel to flee, but one arm caught him before he could, and Hansol pressed his face into his nape, slowly inhaling. Embarrassed little shudders rilled down Seungkwan’s spine as he did so, and he prayed the other couldn’t smell how aroused he still was.

_Gods, he had warned me about the dream, but that was ridiculous. This…. Oh god, his hands over the sweater is the best thing, I can feel myself getting hard again…_

Hansol didn’t say anything at first. Instead he just slowly stroked at his sides and hips as he inhaled Seungkwan’s sweet scent greedily. When he spoke, his voice was very gravelly and low; his hands rubbed at Seungkwan’s belly over the cashmere as if he could feel the arousal still churning there. “Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”

If it hadn’t been for one arm holding him up, Seungkwan would have collapsed. The voice shivered into his neck, made his limbs shiver, and he emitted a soft, sweet cry as fingertips reached to trace one aroused little nipple through the sweater. “I… I…”

“Hm?” Hansol murmured, moving to kiss and nibble at one earlobe. “What was that?”

Seungkwan tried to speak, but his breath got lost as his nipple got pinched and tugged on; it felt as if there was a link right to his cock, perking it up into arousal even when he had come earlier. “D…dream,” he stuttered out, body sagging submissively. “Good sleep.”

Hansol laughed into his ear and stopped teasing him, only to set hands on him and swing him around to perch on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

The marble was cold enough, especially so when Hansol smoothly stripped the leggings off him and shoved his sweater up. Seconds later Seungkwan felt like convulsing when the vampire took his cock into his mouth, swallowing it down in one smooth gulp. His scream sounded off the ceiling at the slow, pulling sucks that stiffened his length; whenever he tried to muffle his shouts Hansol punished him with a pinched nipple or a particularly savage lick. The first time was over so quickly he could barely shove at Hansol’s head to warn him. Despite that Hansol kept sucking and swallowing around him, drinking up the hot, thick jets of seed Seungkwan shot into his mouth.

It didn’t stop there. When Hansol pulled away and Seungkwan thought he was safe, a generous pinch to the over-stimulated head of his cock made him scream anew.

“Come on baby,” Hansol urged. “I want more.”

Seungkwan wasn’t sure how, but Hansol blew him through two more climaxes, until he was so limp with pleasure that he didn’t care what he looked like as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes filled with pleasured tears. His mind was floating somewhere distantly in a soft place that made little sense but was filled with pleasure.

“Do you understand now?” Hansol eventually asked as he helped to dress him again. “How it can be?” His hand settled low on Seungkwan’s belly, possessive and large, cupping it as if he was already imagining babies in there.

Seungkwan mumbled something, he wasn’t quite sure what, and stopped paying attention to things.

* * *

Late that afternoon, with the fire snapping and crackling in the hearth, Seungkwan sighed. He had had a shock that morning and had insisted on working straight through after that, too desperate to get his thoughts together to want to experiment. Hansol hadn’t been happy, but had left him alone with a cup of tea. He had submerged himself in the last of the correspondence and messaged his family to wish them a merry early Christmas. Now, with a headache behind his eyes and his body stiff from sitting hunched over in front of the laptop, he wasn’t surprised at all when a knock sounded and Hansol opened the door to peek in at him.

“Hey,” Seungkwan muttered softly, managing a smile.

Hansol’s smile turned bright as he saw Seungkwan’s, and he set the basket he was carrying down on one side table close to the fire. “Come here,” he said softly, holding out a mug of rich hot chocolate.

Seungkwan’s heart gave a little flip of fondness. Humming in agreement, he shut the laptop down and went willingly, settling on the soft, thick carpet at Hansol’s side. He got a chance to sip at his drink, feeling warmth flush through him again, and sunk his head sideways to rest it on Hansol’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he said at length. “I was just overwhelmed.”

“It’s okay,” Hansol answered. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that hard in any case. I’ll be more gentle next time.”

Seungkwan considered that. “It wasn’t that I didn’t like it,” he said. “I did. It was just a lot on the back of the dream. I understand what you meant now.”

Hansol sighed and cuddled him close. “You’re a bit too susceptible for my taste,” he muttered. Careful, he transferred Seungkwan to his lap to cuddle him. “But most of it should have died down to a dull simmer by now, so…” He paused, frowning as he curled his hands up Seungkwan’s back to feel at his neck and back. “Seungkwanie? You’re one big knot, baby.”

“Headache,” Seungkwan muttered. “I managed to get all my work finished today, and the draft proposal for my master’s in to my professor.”

“Do you want a massage?”

Seungkwan cursed internally when he stiffened even more. “Is it going to be like this morning?” he asked quietly. “Because I don’t think I can handle that now.”

Hansol’s hands were very gentle on him. “No,” he said. “It should have been sufficiently processed by your system by now not to push you that far again. Just pleasure.” He paused. “At least we know now?” He sounded a little defeated. “I think I gave you too much, sorry.”

The promise of a massage won out in Seungkwan’s mind; he kissed the tip of Hansol’s nose and scooted out of his lap. “Don’t pout,” he said just a little teasingly, putting the mug down so that he could strip his sweater off. It felt glorious to lie down on the fire-warmed carpet; his nipples were still twinned stings of pleasures, but nothing _more,_ not like earlier.

“Hold on,” Hansol muttered, and left him there.

Seungkwan snoozed a little in that perfect state of warmth, and only woke when Hansol returned. He muttered a greeting and went limply with when Hansol spread a large soft towel and transferred him back onto his front. The nap of the towel cradled him perfectly, and he didn’t complain when Hansol slowly pulled his leggings off as well, baring him to the fire totally. Hearing a hiss of indrawn breath, he peeked over his shoulder. “What?”

Hansol swallowed and straddled his backside, reaching to the side for the massage oil. “Nothing,” he said. “Just surprised anew at how beautiful you are.”

Seungkwan giggled, drifting just a little, and let out as small, content noise as strong hands began to massage his shoulders. They were gentle but insistent, smoothing out the knots between his shoulder blades and up into his hairline. Down-down-down they went with long strokes that softened the stiff ache in the small of his back, turning him into a pliable mess. He mumbled a complaint as they skipped over the curve of his ass, moving this his legs instead.

Hansol worked him soft and warm slowly, making sure each muscle was relaxed before giving his feet a little massage. He placed a small kiss on each ankle, then worked his way back up, slowly spreading out Seungkwan’s legs as he did so.

Seungkwan felt no shame as his legs were spread slowly opened; when Hansol murmured a surprised compliment on how wide they could part he laughed into the towel and rested his forehead on his arms. “I do Pilates,” he explained, slowly spreading them wider and wider to tease his lover. Seconds later, feeling large palms press against his inner thighs, he gave up control and spread them as wide as he could, feeling the heated stretch of pliant, supple muscles. “Mm, Hansol,” he purred. “That feels good.”

“Keep them there,” Hansol ordered softly as he reached for something else.

This time, instead of warming it in his palms, he allowed the liquid to drip in little plinking drops onto Seungkwan’s ass. Seungkwan jerked and shivered at each warm drop, back curving as his hips lifted slightly. He threw his head up in pleasure as he was spread open slightly, just enough for a trickle of the liquid to drip on his hole. It pooled before spilling over, rim fluttering beneath it, and the trickle surged further down, licking wet heat through his perineum and onto his balls.

“Hansol,” he mewled as his hips were pressed back into the towel. “What’s that?”

Hansol settled big hands on his ass, smearing the liquid into it with firm, smooth strokes. His grip was very firm, more than enough to massage the muscles. Over and over, playing with the globes of flesh, making them jiggle just as the hands had in Seungkwan’s dreams. “It’s lube,” he said softly, earning a groan from Seungkwan. “Gods, you have the best ass. I can’t decide if I want to spank it until it’s pink, or eat you out, or just slowly stretch you open. You’re fluttering, Kwan, did you know that?” He reached to press against the lube-wet pucker with one thumb, letting Seungkwan’s movements press him deeper in.

Seungkwan moaned and whimpered; the pleasure didn’t snow him under like that morning, taking away his will. Instead it felt hot and pleasant and wet; the stretch around Hansol’s large thumb stung at him, and his cheeks coloured at the sweet, filthy words. Instead of complaining he stayed quiet as Hansol removed his thumb and helped him to curl his legs underneath him; when his ass got lifted into the air, he shivered at the feeling of being that open, fingers grasping hungrily at the towel. “All three please,” he said softly. “I want all three.”

“Hm, later,” Hansol promised. “For now let me just prep you, okay?”

Something hard pressed against Seungkwan’s rim; he was just wet enough for the bottle’s squirt top to penetrate him a bit, and he shouted as he felt lube shooting into him. His hips danced and swayed as it got removed; the liquid deep inside him was only warm in the beginning before it cooled, chilling his insides. Compared to that, Hansol’s tongue felt like a brand, burning with pleasure and heat as he started to eat him out.

Feeling like a mess, there as little Seungkwan could do but jerk his hips hungrily back for more. He reached back, unsure why, until his arms were restrained in the small of his back. Through it all Hansol tongue-fucked him open, slow and wet and thorough, until he felt drenched and loose; despite that he still didn’t stretch far when Hansol tried to slip two fingers inside him.

“You’re still so tight, baby,” Hansol murmured as he kissed the curve of one cheek. “Just my tongue isn’t going to be enough.”

Seungkwan shouted at the bite he got there, trembling, feeling empty and unfilled and _hungry_. “I don’t care!” he shouted. “Fuck me, Hansol, fuck me!”

Hansol ignored that demand, pulling away to slowly finger-fuck him.

Two fingers were tight and three was a real stretch. Despite that, Seungkwan begged and pleaded for more, uncaring how wild he sounded. He only stilled when something pressed against his puffy rim; he sang with pleasure as it started to press in, thinking it Hansol’s cock. Instead, brows knitted with hungry tension, he had to keep still as a series of varisized beads slowly filled him up. The last one, perhaps as wide as three fingers, made him shout as Hansol kept it from sinking all the way into him, slowly letting his rim work at it until it was almost inside, then pulling out again. Over and over, just slow enough that he couldn’t come.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been when Hansol finally shoved it in with a fingertip; the gentle spanking taps over his hole made him clench and suck it deep inside.

“More,” Hansol said softly. “Come on Kwan, all the way inside, I can still see some of it.” The little spanks increased, pattering over the sensitive puffy flesh like rain. “Tighten up, baby. All the way. Come on.”

Crying, almost over-stimulated again, Seungkwan tried to get it deep into his body, knees shivering with the pleasure of it. The beads were jostling around inside his body, kneading and rolling over his prostate. Each of the little spanks set his insides to surging again; it was a long time before he could tighten up enough for Hansol’s approval again. Sniffling, feeling just a little fucked-out, he panted, trying to get used to the feeling of it.

“Good boy,” Hansol praised into the curve of Seungkwan’s ass. “Tell me when it starts to feel really good, okay?”

He tortured him then, or so it felt to Seungkwan: large hands massaged his ass, adored it, worked it into great rolling surges that shifted the beads deep inside him. Over and over, only to back down as he started to shiver too much, until Seungkwan was allowed to collapsed back onto the towel. The hands followed him, started to massage him again, shoulders and back and legs, sensitive thighs and down in between, fondling over his balls until they sat high and tight to his body.

Seungkwan lost count around the third time he wasn’t allowed to climax, and he felt totally limp as Hansol moved to the couch and pulled him back into his lap. He felt as if his body poured against Hansol’s chest, and his legs parted as if taught to do it, locking around Hansol’s waist as large palms covered his ass.

“Just relax a bit,” Hansol said softly.

Seungkwan drifted like that, content to fall asleep. The occasional shift churned pleasure in his gut, but it felt _good_ now, not tortuous. “Hansol,” he murmured, catching a thought on the verge of falling asleep.

Hansol murmured, squeezing him gently. “What is it, baby?”

“Truly, what are the chances of us fooling around ending up badly?”

“Emotionally or physically?”

“Physically,” Seungkwan said shyly. “I know you won’t hurt me emotionally.”

Hansol’s lips pressed against his temple. “Soft baby,” he muttered. “Not much, unless you drink more of my blood than you already have, and I wouldn’t allow that. You might be sore, but nothing more.” Idly he started playing with the string of the beads, slowly tugging on it. “I think you’re sensitive enough already, right?”

Seungkwan’s cheeks scalded and he agreed with a wordless nod. Below, he could feel his rim obediently stretch open, and mewled softly at the pleasant burn of it. “That feels good,” he finally muttered, back arching a little. “You’re… um, you’re clean, right? I am, I’ve never slept with anyone, so…”

Hansol nodded and pushed the bead back deep inside, helping him to sit up straight so that he could monitor his pleasure-soft expression, kiss pouty lips. “I am, we don’t get those diseases like humans. My immune system is too strong.” He paused. “What say we go and take a nap? I can nap with you if you want, and you’re not too hungry.”

“You will?” Seungkwan whispered. “Yes please, I’d like that. Carry me?”

Hansol nodded and wrapped him in his arms, moving to carry him out of room. Full as he was, the beads churned deep in Seungkwan as they ascended the stairs; he was panting and pressing hungry little kisses to Hansol’s jaw by the top. When they entered his room, Hansol pulled the blankets open and put him down as if he was fragile; Seungkwan lay as he had placed him, arms and legs sprawled as he panted and wriggled, just turned-on enough to whine for Hansol’s body.

Hansol stripped; Seungkwan had known he was hard, but the glistening head of his cock lured him, and he sat up to lip hungrily at it.

Hansol groaned softly above his head, fingers sinking into his hair; Seungkwan struggled to part his mouth wide enough to take the entire head in. It lodged on his tongue, weighing it down with its salty foreign taste; despite that he suckled hungrily at it, petting the fat length with his hands. As he worked, his hips writhed; he had never thought he’d get turned on by sucking cock, but here he was, moaning and begging prettily.

Hansol gently pushed it deeper into his mouth, then deeper still; Seungkwan clenched down on the beads as it hit the back of his throat, and he moaned with sheer pleasure.

Hansol thumbed at his lips, stroking over their spread-thin curve. “You look so pretty like this,” he praised. “Swallow, baby. You can take it, I promise.”

Seungkwan swallowed and gagged, but it sunk into his throat until he felt pinned by it. Pressing his hands into the mattress between his spread thighs, he sank submissively deeper on it, eyes fluttering shut with sheer rapture. His jaw ached as it swelled a little further, and when Hansol pulled out to rest the tip on his tongue he panted needily, tongue-tip hungry around the fat curve of it and into the little slit on it.

“Careful,” Hansol warned. “I’m about to come.”

Seungkwan ignored the warning. Instead, tickling his tongue around the sensitive ridge beneath the glans, he started sucking again. Seconds later, feeling it start to pulse, he gave a long groan of pleasure as Hansol cursed softly above him. The seed spurted thick over his tongue, forcing him to swallow, but he did so gladly, sucking the load down again and again until there was nothing more to give. Popping off it, panting for breath, his eyes opened in amazement as he saw it sway just as fat and long as ever, not softened a whit.

“Hansol, was that not…”

“You did so good, baby,” Hansol praised, petting Seungkwan’s cheeks and lips, massaging his jaw to relax it. “You don’t need to do any more. Let’s just nap, okay? Let me fetch you some water.”

Humbled a little – he felt so cared for – Seungkwan waited and rinsed out his mouth with the water, drinking down the whole glass. His body, still turned on, didn’t get any chance for release. This time Hansol turned him on his side and curled around him. His thick length worked between his cheeks, then into the channel beneath, slipping thickly through to rest against the bottom of his cock. He was urged up flush against Hansol’s groin, until the thick length spread him from balls to rim, head nudging and poking at his own.

“Sleep,” Hansol commanded as he threw the covers over them.

Seungkwan slept, feeling safer than he ever had.

The nap turned into a full night’s sleep; Seungkwan was vaguely aware of movement, but ignored it as his warm cuddle partner came back. He was awake enough to murmur a morning but drifted slow and warm, fingers content to play with the rampantly firm cock-head that poked through his thighs. His touches were long and sleepy, getting to know the shape of it, and hissed with pleasure as a large hand wrapped around his waist to jerk both cocks off softly. The beads were still in him it felt, given how they brushed against his prostate as he tightened and his toes pointed with the pleasure.

“Baby,” Hansol said behind him, strewing kisses over his neck and shoulder. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything,” Seungkwan whispered, in too good a mood to say no to anything. His climb to pleasure was gentler than the last time. “What is it?”

Teeth nipped gently against his shoulder. “Can I come in you and keep it in you?” Hansol murmured. “I don’t want to fuck you, I just want my seed inside you and something to keep it in there, so that I know that you’re full when you go away to work in the library today.”

Seungkwan blushed slowly at the thought of sitting at the rest, bearing Hansol’s seed deep inside him like a hidden surprise. “Yes,” he murmured. “Please, yes.”

Hansol turned him gently on his front at that, hand still working beneath him as he slowly popped the beads out one by one. Each time Seungkwan felt one pop out he whimpered. He was so relaxed, so warm that he came without warning, filling Hansol’s hand before he slumped down into the mattress, wrung out.

Limply he lay there as Hansol pulled him opened and finger-fucked the handful of his cum into him. Between it and the lube he felt deliciously open, but was proved wrong in the next moment. Something huge pressed against his fluttering rim, warm and slick with precum. His chest curled into the air as the massive something slowly penetrated; seconds later he felt a hand settle on his ass to keep him still so that he wasn’t allowed more of that tremendous stretch. Instead, scalding heat began to shoot into him, making him creel and mewl hungrily. It continued on and on, until he could feel his belly fill to bursting with it, every nook and cranny inside him coated with Hansol’s seed. It happened several times, and immediately started leaking when Hansol pulled away.

Hansol tapped a finger against his quivering, cum-wet rim. “Tighten up,” he ordered. “Keep it inside baby.” Tiny little spanks followed to encourage him, falling sweetly onto his quivering hole.

This time when Hansol ordered him to tighten up and spanked him there gently, he did so immediately, too trained by the play yesterday not to; something scooped up the seed that had escaped and fucked it back into him. The plug – it felt solid and tight – settled in his ass and his rim closed around the narrow part.

His cheeks were very red as Hansol turned him around to kiss the line of his jaw; deep inside him he could feel the churn of something very hot, soaking warmth into him. “Good boy,” Hansol praised sweetly. “Come on, let’s go take a shower before I get ideas. Just the idea of you being filled makes me want to fuck you. How does it feel?”

Seungkwan curled into Hansol’s arms. “Hot,” he admitted shyly. “I feel so warm deep inside. I like it.” He trustingly rested his head against Hansol’s chest. “Will you do it again another day?”

“As often as you want,” Hansol promised.

* * *

Washed and cleaned and dressed, Seungkwan had the time of his life walking down the stairs. It felt different, ass aware that there was pressure deep inside. He swallowed, said nothing and made his way down to the study and the Christmas tree they had decorated over a week ago. The area underneath it was absolutely stacked with gifts, all exquisitely wrapped with little bows on; he had heard enough rants from Jihoon-_hyung_ on paper waste reduction to know that it had not been his idea, even if some of the gifts had his name on the label. Settling down close by, perching the red Santa hat festively on his head, he smiled as he heard Hansol trundle inside.

Seconds later he burst into laughter, fingers coming to mask the movement. His lover had the worst Christmas sweater on that he had ever seen, a hideous melange of Christmas colours that somehow had actual tiny lights in the weave that flashed on and off.

“What do you think?” Hansol asked proudly, posing for him.

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Seungkwan said as seriously as he could. “You’re in first place in the ugly Christmas sweater sweepstakes.”

Hansol beamed proudly at him and settled at his feet, shifting until his back rested against Seungkwan’s legs. “Gifts!” he announced happily. “Here, this first one’s yours…”

Seungkwan let him have the moment, enjoying the sheer enjoyment that radiated from him, and spent moments between opening gifts working his fingers through the blonde-brown locks of Hansol’s hair. None of the gifts were very big; most of his were books on his Amazon wishlist, though there were vouchers for clothes and a matching festive sweater and bookmarks and perfume gifts and a lot of other things. Somehow Hansol had hidden the _hyungdeul_’s presents from his as well, so by the time he locked his own present – a thin golden chain – around Hansol’s neck he sat in a drift of bright paper.

Relaxing back into the settee, he paid little attention as Hansol moved between his legs, then shifted them over his shoulders. His lover was very gentle in working his right sock off, and the feeling of something cool there made Seungkwan sit up straight.

“Merry Christmas,” Hansol said very softly, placing butterfly kisses against his calf.

Seungkwan raised his leg a little and stared at the bracelet around his ankle. It was delicate but still sturdy enough for charms to dangle off it. There was an enamelled little Christmas tree, a snowflake and a tiny bell; the bell chimed sweetly and softly with each twitch of his foot. “It’s lovely,” he said very softly. “I’m going to listen for that whilst I walk.”

Hansol’s smile curved into a grin, but said nothing even when his expression turned too-innocent.

“Hansol…” Seungkwan drawled out. “Spill. You look like a cat that finally caught a mouse.” He sat up straight at that so that his arms as well as his legs could drape over Hansol’s shoulders, turning his cheek to rest against his warm, soft-smelling hair.

Hansol mumbled, reaching up to hold his hands. “I’m going to listen to it when I fuck you slow and deep,” he said at length. “You get so twitchy when I play with your ass, it’s going to sing for me.”

Sweet embarrassment made Seungkwan’s mouth furl into a pout. “Hansol,” he complained. “No fair saying things like that. It’s your fault I love it so much in the first place.”

“No,” Hansol said. “I’m dedicated to making you understand how _perfect_ it is. It’s not even funny. The other day I watched you pull on those slim-fit jeans in the shop and you looked so perky and good I wanted to eat you out right there.” He kissed the tips of Seungkwan’s fingers one by one. “Do you want to come on a hike with me later? My place is very far from here so I can’t show you yet, but there’s a nice little cottage in the woods that’s perfect. I could take some food, it’ll be perfect.”

“Hm,” Seungkwan murmured, leaning in to tilt his head back and kiss his forehead. “Can you make me a fire like this one over there?”

Hansol tilted his head even further back to grin at him. “No problems!”

They left after Christmas dinner; Seungkwan had barely had to struggle through a foot of snow before Hansol picked him up-up-up with unbelievable strength, settling him on his shoulders. Seungkwan boggled at the display but concentrated on keeping his balance and ducking away from the fir branches as they entered the forest. It wasn’t a long walk at all, Hansol walked quickly and powerfully, but everything of him was chilled and cold except his inner thighs when they arrived at the little hut.

It just had one room, but looked very sturdy, with a massive pile of pillows in one corner under thick throws; there were plenty of books around but no electricity, so the only light was the fire that Hansol coaxed into being. With the nth snowstorm of the season looming, the inside was very dark, and Seungkwan had to crawl to the pile of blankets and pillows by feel, relaxing back into it with a slow, happy groan.

Hansol joined him soon afterwards, curling around him for warmth before the fire started heating the little space. It was only when it was crackling and the air warm that he started pulling Seungkwan’s clothes off, then his own, until they curled nakedly around each other, with Seungkwan’s legs around one of Hansol’s thighs and his cheek resting on his strong chest.

Minutes passed slowly in the golden fire-light; Seungkwan felt content not to speak but enjoy the cuddle instead. Over the past few weeks Hansol had sated the skin-hunger in him, but it was still one of his favourite things, naked cuddles like this.

“Tell me about your place,” he said sleepily. “You say it’s far away from here?”

Hansol’s one hand reached to curve around Seungkwan’s ass until he could collect a thick, fleshy palmful of one, fingers just-just dipping into the secret crack between. “It’s way towards the south near Bath,” he explained. “My parents used to live there but they moved to Venice now because my dad loves it there; I was left with the family heap. The house looks somewhat the same, I guess you could say, Blendon Park is also a listed building.”

“Won’t it be in trouble now that you’re here until the _hyungdeul_ return?” Seungkwan asked, trying to concentrate past the tap-tap-tap Hansol’s one fingertip gave the tail end of the plug.

Hansol shook his head. “No, baby, it’s not a problem,” he murmured softly, starting to press and play with the shaped toy. “I have good people that could watch it, and I’m happy to help Soonyoung-_hyung_ out and protect a friend of his. Not only that, but I’m so happy now that I actually met you.” He paused to tug gently at the plug. “We have to take this out and clean you a little,” he murmured. “Just give me a moment, okay?”

Seungkwan mumbled agreement and crept in beneath a thick blanket as the door opened and shut in quick succession, Hansol leaving to … fetch something outside? The curiosity knit a little between his brows, but they eased as he saw Hansol bring back a bowl of snow. Turning onto his back, he braced himself as his lover pulled the plug out, moaning softly as wetness immediately started leaking.

The first touch of the snow-melt water against his rim was shocking; he gasped at the feel of it. Hansol dipped two chilled fingers inside him, making his channel flutter and contract. It felt so cold and sweet inside his heated body that he panted softly at the pleasure it gave him. Again and again his Hansol pulled his little hole wide to gently press some snow into him to melt deep inside. Never too cold, Seungkwan didn’t feel frozen at all, but he was turned on enough that he didn’t care about the picture he presented as he lifted his hips greedily for more.

When he was squeaky-clean and pink-cheeked with arousal Hansol turned him over and slowly washed the rest of him as well, almost-icy cloth playing teasingly over his poor, puffy nipples until they were hard and very pink. More cold, cleaning him up from head to toe, until the bowl and cloth disappeared and Hansol set to warming him back up with his mouth. Seungkwan shouted to feel the fiery heat of Hansol’s tongue on his nipples; he moaned and writhed happily in the pile of pillows.

“Hansolie,” he whispered, tremendously greedy. “Gosh, that feels so good. More, please?”

Smiling, Hansol dripped a little of the still-clean snow into his belly-button and made him laugh before he licked it clean. “You’re so soft and gold and pink,” he said reverently. “My sweet, sweet Kwan. Can I play some more?”

Seungkwan bit his lips and nodded, eyes unfocused in the twilight darkness of the small hut. When Hansol picked him his legs to urge them up and out, then pet his hands into keeping them spread, he exhaled hungrily, at a fever pitch for what was about to come. His lover didn’t disappoint; light dabs of some kind of lotion was spread over his puffy rim, fingers very gentle. He didn’t feel the coolness begin until Hansol coated his fingers and gently worked him open; it was so cool and soft and wonderful inside him that he whined softly, cock slowly tightening into an erection.

“It’s a healing salve,” Hansol explained with a whisper. “It’ll soften you up and warm up in a little bit; it’ll feel amazing when I fuck you later.”

Seungkwan bit his lip, fighting to keep still. “More, please,” he asked prettily as the salve slowly started to heat up inside him. “As deep as you can, it’s still a little cold in there.” He tilted his head. “You’re going to fuck me?”

Hansol smiled, but it was more of a suggestion of one in the grey dark. “If you don’t mind?” he asked. “Then yes.” His fingers scooped up more salve, until he had finally used enough to fuck Seungkwan’s little hole smoothly with three fingers, then four, pressing the heat deep-deep-deep into him before pausing. “A little lube as well? I have some here that heats up as well.”

“Please,” Seungkwan begged softly, all too aware of the soft chiming of the bell in his ankle as his legs trembled high in the air. “Please yes.” He had little to go on, only the sound of a cap snapping open before the four fingers left him and a thick nozzle pressed into him deeply. He felt the soft squelching squirt more than he heard it; as promised it heated up deep inside and turned him limp with pleasure.

He rolled obediently onto his side when Hansol spooned around him again, chest towards the fire, and watched as clever, slick fingers started to pinch and play with his sensitive nubs before one leg move to rest over his. Like that, totally enveloped in Hansol, he felt safe and protected, ass still on fire with the slow, sweet heat that radiated to every part of him. At a nudge, Hansol’s cock slipped through his thighs again, and he looked down to the way it glistened slickly beneath his, moving so that he could gently pet and play with it. “How old are you?” he asked curiously.

Hansol muffled a grin into his neck. “According to my id, I’m twenty-two, same age as you. My birthday… hm, one hundred and twenty-seven?” He laughed a bright huffy laugh as Seungkwan twitched in his arms from shock. “The youngest vampire I know is Chan.”

“Chan?” Seungkwan questioned as he relaxed from that shock, bringing precum-slick fingertips to his lips to lick them clean of Hansol’s taste. “Who’s that?”

“Ah, Sophie’s younger brother,” Hansol explained. “He’s barely a hundred, but he still gets huffy when his father calls him his baby. Remember the uncles that I talked about? He’s their kid. The third one, actually.”

Filing the knowledge away for later, Seungkwan struggled a little to get away from Hansol’s greedy clasp, taking the initiative to press him flat into the pile of pillows. In the firelight Hansol’s cock stretched to his belly-button, thick and very firm; he moved to straddle one hard thigh so that he could ride it as he locked hands around the thick length, slowly jerking it off. It felt almost meditative, with only Hansol’s soft groans to teach him how to please him.

Seungkwan stared at his face from beneath his lashes, feeling shy but just a little adventurous. “If we ever hook up,” he speculated. “Do you think we can beat the _hyungdeul_’s three year record?” He grinned as the cock in his hands twitched, leaping as Hansol gave a long, slow groan. He leant down to lip at the leaking, full head, sucking precum from the little slit and teasing it with his tongue-tip. “You’d make such a good dad; I could still study and you could massage my back when it gets sore, and rub lotion into my belly as it swells… one year, do you think? Two?”

“Shit, Seungkwan,” Hansol growled, hips jerking up needily. “Do you have to talk like that? You know what it does to me.”

“No?” Seungkwan murmured teasingly. “Is it the same as when you say you want to bite my thighs and drink from them?”

“Yeeeees!” Hansol’s voice was a low, needy hiss.

Encouraged, Seungkwan stopped playing with his cock and slowly crept up him, until his legs were spread on either side of Hansol’s face. “Right here,” he demanded sweetly, dipping his fingertip into the fold between his groin and right leg. “Right here so that whenever I walk I feel it, and I think of you fucking me.”

Hansol mumbled agreement but reached to hitch his hips up until Seungkwan sat spread over his face. Large hands pulled his cheeks slightly apart and he slowly licked into the puffy, sensitive rim, giving it tiny nibbling kisses before he started to eat him out. Seungkwan’s cries filled the small, sacred-feeling space; he bit on a knuckle to stifle them, but they were soon too loud to be muffled. Hansol curled up, taking him over to rest on his back with legs still spread over his shoulders, and he paused to pant for air. “Tease,” he muttered. “Dangerous tease.”

Seungkwan laughed happily, heart fuller than he could recall it ever being. “Turnaround is fair play,” he grinned, loving the sound of the gentle chiming as he gently kicked his legs in the air.

Hansol didn’t respond. Instead, pulling him so that Seungkwan sat facing away on his lap, he lifted his hips high and started to slowly sink into his wet, prepared pucker, spreading it wide open with the thick head of his cock.

Seungkwan stilled, then whined. Even prepared it still felt tremendous; he whined and pressed downwards in little hitching surges, trying to work the huge length into him. It felt like a triumph when his rim finally stretched enough for the head to pop in, but then came the long length of cock behind it, and it felt like forever until he was fully seated, Hansol’s cock sunk into him up to the balls. “Oh my god,” he whispered over and over, limbs shivering with little jerky surges of pleasure. He had never been so spread in his life; thick veins were rubbing against him, gently dragging on his insides even with the copious amount of lube in him.

Hansol leant to kiss the nape of his neck and his shoulders, holding him still for a moment. “That’s what you get for teasing me,” he whispered, arms moving to circle low around Seungkwan’s belly. “Look down, baby.”

Seungkwan’s cheeks scalded with heat as he looked and saw the bump above Hansol’s arms, distending his stomach a little “Oh my god,” he moaned, feeling his arousal kick up a few notched. “God, Hansolie, you’re so huge, how am I gonna take it? You’re going to break me…”

Hansol’s laughter was soft. “I’ll be gentle, baby, I promise.” He fit words to deed, gently lifting Seungkwan a little off his cock before sinking him down on it again; he did it over and over until each jab of his hips turned into slow, rutting surges that saw Seungkwan’s lips fall open to praise him. “Got the rhythm?” he asked, smacking one thigh gently. “Good, now you try, baby. Fuck yourself on me, okay? I want to see your ass when you swallow me like this, you’re spread open so wide…”

Seungkwan shuddered at the soft, filthy words, knowing full well what it must look like. He bit his lip and slowly lifted off himself, trying to keep to the same rhythm as before. It didn’t work out immediately, but Hansol helped him to reach it, until he was bouncing happily on his lover’s cock, feeling each stabbing thrust pull and twist against his inside. He leant forward a little, allowing fire-light to provide a better picture for Hansol, and was rewarded as his ass worked and jiggled with each thrust.

Hansol clapped a large hand on each fleshy globe he grunted with pleasure, pulling them far apart to see his cock sink into Seungkwan’s entrance, tracing the stretched skin with his thumbs as his hips started working again. When Seungkwan made to get off he stopped him and took over, fucking him deeply and desperately. “It’s safer like this,” he gasped out, hips stabbing up into the softest, sweetest ass he had ever felt. “Just a bit more baby. I know you’re tired, just a little bit more…”

Blinking pleasurable tears away Seungkwan did his best; his belly was such a knot of pleasure he shouted only a few seconds later, stiffening as he came all over his belly. To his surprise Hansol didn’t stop; instead he growled and started to work him harder, rutting him through the orgasm without stop. Seungkwan mewled; if it hadn’t been for his grip on Hansol’s calves he would have fallen. Instead, leaning back, he spread his legs as wide as he could, and Hansol reached to hook them over his strong arms, forming him into a little ball of mindless pleasure.

“Again, Kwan,” Hansol muttered as he nipped at his nape. “C’mon. Lemme hear you as I fuck you.”

Dripping with cum, Seungkwan whined and kicked and moaned for him, transfixed by the bump Hansol’s cock made as he bottomed out. He reached to pat it, begging with broken little syllables for relief again. His world narrowed down to the huge, rock-hard cock in his ass, tightening up as much as he could around it. Long minutes later, almost over the edge again, he hiccuped in shock and pleasure as it seemed to swell inside him; whatever was going on it seemed to stretch him even wider. When he whined at the feeling lips suckled softly on his neck.

“It’s okay, baby,” Hansol whispered as he sucked a bruise into the golden fire-painted flesh of Seungkwan’s neck. “Just relax as much as you can, okay? It’s my knot, I’ll be gentle with it…”

“Yes! God yes, give it to me!” Seungkwan’s mind couldn’t quite grasp the ‘gentle’ part, but it turned him on so much he was panting with need and voracious as he worked his ass down on the thickening knot of flesh, whining as it stretched his entrance ever wider. His head flung back and he shouted with relief as Hansol finally fucked it all the way inside him. The stretch felt tremendous; he was so wide open it felt incredible; the pleasure of it bowled him under and he came again, hole greedily sucking on the fat knot of flesh.

He felt the first jets of cum shoot into him still seated on Hansol’s lap; when his lover tilted them over on the side to cuddle it sent off a ghostly little tremble in his frame and his ass clenched down again, or tried to. Hansol hissed behind him, but kept him still and wrapped in his body as he filled him full with slow, shallow little ruts up into him.

Seungkwan wasn’t sure time was passing; he felt safe and warm as he slowly came down from the intense pleasure, and every so often he felt a new spurt of heat inside him. He murmured each time it happened, tiredly praising his lover in soft, sweet words, but it didn’t stop for a long while. Like that, he felt Hansol gingerly bite at his neck; his shoulder moved back as he gave his wordless appreciation, and he felt his fangs slice into his neck.

There was too much pleasure in his body to feel pain; he felt Hansol drink from him with the same slow surges as the huge cock in his ass still filling him with jets of cum. Hansol didn’t take much blood, just enough to make pleasure sing through his body again, and he smiled at the groan he heard afterwards. “How do I taste?” he asked curiously.

“Like lightning and heat,” Hansol muttered as he lipped at his ear. “How do you feel?”

Seungkwan managed a smile. “Very full,” he said lazily. “How long does this, um, knot last?” He was loathe for it to leave, loving it now that the full stretch had died down to a simmering, shivery kind of heat.

Hansol’s laughter tickled at the sensitive skin of his neck. “I told you I had a little wolf inside me,” he teased. “This is what you get for teasing like that, Red Riding Hood; you’ll be knotted for the next hour or so.” One hand moved off Seungkwan’s waist, slid down to caress low on his belly where it was starting to swell. “Comfortable? I can keep going.”

The thought made Seungkwan’s toes curl and his cheeks heat with pleasure. “Promise?” he asked softly.

Hansol pulled him in close, holding him until the adjustment settled and Seungkwan stopped squirming. “Promise. Sleep, Kwannie.”

Seungkwan closed his eyes and did just that, drifting off happily into the best sleep of his life.

Hansol fit deed to word: when he woke Seungkwan up a little over an hour later by slowly slipping out of him, he was quick to push the plug back into the soft, moaning man in his arms, shifting him to bring a little relief to his side. “Look,” he whispered, kissing the curve of Seungkwan’s shoulder over and over.

Seungkwan stretched, feeling lip and relaxed; for a moment he didn’t remember why he had to look down, so his cheeks scalded with renewed heat as he saw the mess his lover had made of him. His stomach curved a bit; he looked ripe and filled and pregnant, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch the strange curve with little petting motions. “Mhm,” he murmured, voice blurred with pleasure. “Are you proud, _yeobo_?” he teased, and saw Hansol’s eyes flame gold with arousal in the low light.

He paid for it with another fucking just like that, shallow rutting surges just deep enough to bump into his prostate. He mewled and cried, grasping for support, but Hansol had no mercy this time. Instead, still shallowly in him, his lover made him watch again as he filled him even further; two full loads filled Seungkwan to bursting as the plug worked wetly into him again.

He lost count of the times he was cleaned out and refilled that afternoon. Hansol insisted on using the salve every time, keeping him soft and uninjured as he conquered him over and over; the last time, just before full dusk, he was once again stretched and distended, arms curling around his belly protectively as his lover carried him back to the house. His room was warm and he fell asleep without any issues, content to stay curled back into him for the whole night.

In the grand scheme of things, Chwe Hansol’s heart was the best present he had ever gotten on Christmas, and Boo Seungkwan wasn’t stupid enough to say no, no matter what the future brought.

**Author's Note:**

>   * So in case any of you want to see the houses in question, Gunsloe Manor is based on [Mirehouse](https://www.mirehouse.co.uk/) in Keswick, and Blendon Park is based on [Dyrham Park](https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/dyrham-park) in Gloucestershire. 
>   * This is very minimally edited since I wanted to get it out on Christmas day. If there are any egregious errors or tags missing, please let me know in the comments! 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Snowfall Before Christmas [Vietnamese Translation]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454541) by [17schiizu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/17schiizu/pseuds/17schiizu)


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